A Storm is Brewing
by Teprac S
Summary: Needing down time after a tough case Mulder takes a long weekend only to find being off duty doesn't exclude him from trouble.
1. Chapter 1

A Storm Is Brewing

By Jennye Jackman

Written : September 21, 1995

A/N: Only the story and original characters are mine. No profit has been made other than the joy I got from writing this. Feedback is always welcome even constructive criticism.

Thursday 12:30 p.m. -- The Mall - Washington D.C.

Agent Fox Mulder took advantage of a rare opportunity to eat his lunch outside in the fresh air. He enjoyed eating beneath the trees surrounding the Tidal Basin, near the Jefferson Memorial. It was quiet there and allowed him time to relax and think.

_Today_ Mulder thought as he looked across the tidal basin toward the memorial, _it would seem that children from a dozen buses have the same idea_ He sighed as he turned and walked toward his alternate lunch spot near the paddle boats.

Mulder located an empty bench and removed his black duster-like topcoat before he sat to eat his sack lunch. He enjoyed the warmth of a passing sunbeam as it soaked into the layers of his dark suit coat. The fall air was filled with the distant sounds of birds, traffic and children at play on the Mall. Mulder took a deep relaxing breath. The air had a crisp snap to it, promising the approach of fall.

A light breeze tossed his short black hair as he finished his sack lunch and leaned back. He watched the multicolored paddle boats as their paddlers steered them in meandering patterns across the calm water. Mulder started as he heard a soft feminine voice speaking directly behind him.

"Mr. Mulder, I need your help."

He turned to face the speaker. "How can I ... help ... you?"

There was no one within twenty yards of him. The closest person was a man jogging by, totally oblivious to his surroundings as some form of music blared from his earphones.

Puzzled, Mulder stood and scanned the area. Finally, he shook his head. _Maybe Scully was right_ he thought wryly as he pushed his fingers through his breeze ruffled hair, _maybe it is time I took a vacation_ Mulder picked up his trash, tossed it into a nearby open topped bin, and drew on his topcoat.

As he walked across the Mall, on his way back to the J. Edgar Hoover Building, a cold breeze touched him. He shivered and pulled his topcoat tighter. He glanced skyward. Clouds were gathering, growing darker and looked to be rain filled. There was definitely a storm brewing.

-----

Mulder hurried, wanting to beat the impending rain. He took the front stairs of F.B.I. Headquarters two at a time. Meeting an elderly woman at the door, he opened it for her, saying cordially, "Let me get that door for you."

"Thank you, young man," she said, her blue-green eyes twinkling as she entered the building.

Mulder followed her into the building and opened the interior doors for her as well. The woman stopped at the information desk and Mulder continued on to the security barrier. He handed his gun to the bored security guard, then passed through the metal detector uneventfully and collected his gun on the other side.

Crossing the F.B.I. logo embedded in the white marble floor as he had done enumerable times before, Mulder headed over to the bank of brass doored elevators and stopped in front of the first elevator. He pressed the call button and nodded to one of the patrolling security guards. The gentle ringing of a chime announced that the elevator car had arrived. The doors opened a moment later.

Mulder entered the small mirror and wood-paneled car which had mirrored panels to give the illusion of increased dimensions. He turned to face the doors and selected the fourth floor as his destination. A leggy brunette wearing a dark blue dress and carrying an armload of thick manila files slipped into the elevator just as the doors began to close.

"Going up?" she asked coyly, trying not to meet his gaze.

Mulder half-smiled at Agent Karen Ashcroft and said, "Yes." Then, continuing their almost ritualized word game, he asked, "So, how far do you want to go today?"

She smiled at him and winked. "All the way," she said huskily.

He smiled and shook his head slightly. _It's a damned__ shame_ Mulder thought, _that she's happily married._ "My pleasure to give you a lift," he said, pressing the button for the eighth floor.

The eighth floor was designated for exclusive use of Internal Affairs and Administration. The doors of the elevator opened onto the fourth floor a minute later. "Good luck," Mulder said as he stepped out of the elevator.

Agent Ashcroft's brow rose slightly. "Apparently, not this time," she said with feigned regret as the doors began to close.

Agent Mulder walked down a corridor which led him to an open office door and an empty reception desk. Beyond the desk was a second door. On the door was an engraved brass plaque that proudly declaring that the room beyond was the office of Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner, the man he had come to see. Mulder knocked twice, waited a beat and entered the room as he heard "Come." from beyond the door.

Skinner looked up, obviously surprised to see Agent Mulder standing there: as he never came into this office unless summoned or he was in some sort of trouble.

"Agent Mulder," Skinner acknowledged him as he entered the room. "What can I do for you?" he asked as he continued to scan through the contents of a manila folder, then signed the last page with a practiced flourish.

"Sir, I was wondering..." Mulder started hesitantly. He wasn't completely sure how to ask for time off because it wasn't something he usually did voluntarily. Mulder thought back on the time he had off in the last few years and realized uneasily, that most of his time off was usually spent in recovery from some type of injury. Normally, Fox was forced into taking the time off. Somehow, he usually managed to get very little in the way of recreating done.

Skinner looked up from the next thick manila file out of a large stack of files. His brow rose slightly, toward to his nonexistent hairline, as he waved his pen impatiently in the air, motioning for Mulder to finish his thought. "Wondering what?" he prompted.

"I logged a lot of O.T. on my last case and since our case load looks very light for the remainder of this week, I was ... wondering ... if I could take Friday off," he finished in a rush.

Both of Skinner's brows rose slowly above the frame of his silver framed glasses, wrinkling his forehead. "You want a day off?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, sir." Mulder said.

"Just one?" Skinner asked, obviously hoping that Mulder would take more days voluntarily.

"Yes. Is it a problem?" Mulder asked, momentarily concerned that Skinner might not let him go on such short notice.

Skinner's hopes that Mulder would take more days withered as he watched the agent's resolve waiver. He resumed scanning the report on the desk before him. "No. I'm just surprised, are you all right? Not sick or something?"

"No, I'm fine."

There was a momentary pause in Mulder's response and Skinner looked up, suddenly suspicious. "Is there something else? ... How's your mother?" Skinner asked, fishing for an ulterior motive for Mulder's wanting time off.

"No, she's fine," Mulder said, not appearing to be surprised by his line of questions. "Sir, I just thought it was time to take a day off."

Skinner shrugged, checked his watch and made a note on one of his numerous memo pads. "Okay. I'll see you on Monday and Mulder ..."

"Yes, sir?"

"Close the door on your way out."

------

Once Fox Mulder reached his basement lair, he tossed his black topcoat over a hook on the coat rack which set the blue ball cap that always hung there swinging, and went directly to his cluttered desk. He pulled a well worn United States map out of the center drawer. With Friday off, he now had three days to work with. Mulder folded the map in half, narrowing his potential destination possibilities to the eastern seaboard and laid the map face up on his desk.

Looking at his watch, Mulder turned on the beat-up portable radio that sat on his filing cabinet. Ten minutes later, the newscaster finished with the sports scores and began the weather forecast. "The northeast is expecting warm temperatures during the day and near freezing at night." He folded the top third of the map back out of the way. The newscaster continued, "The southeast is expected to be unseasonably hot and wet."

Folding the bottom third of the map back as well, Mulder continued to listen intently to the report. "The mid-Atlantic states are assured of light rains tonight followed by a week of sun and moderate temperatures."

Mulder looked at the folded map for a moment, and then picked it up. He pinned the map to his overcrowded bulletin board near the door, then returned to his desk. He opened the center drawer of the desk and removed a brass-tipped dart with loud green fletchings. It had been the prize for an in-house dart tournament that he had spontaneously participated in late one evening.

He took aim, closed his eyes, and threw just as Scully opened the door. The dart skimmed the edge of the door changing its trajectory. The dart stuck solidly into the map.

"Mulder, what on earth are you doing?" she demanded, startled by the near miss.

"Taking a short vacation like you suggested."

"A vacation?" she asked, puzzled. Then she remembered their conversation. She looked at the map with the green fletched dart sticking out of it. "Where are you going?"

He walked over to the map and removed the dart. "Somewhere in Virginia." He couldn't read the name of the nearest town so he removed the map held it under his desk light for a better look. "St. Charles, Virginia, to be exact," he said pointing to the hole in the map.

Scully looked at the map and said observing the lack of any major population indicators, "It's in the middle of nowhere. Couldn't you find somewhere a little closer to civilization?"

"It's not that far out in the boondocks. It's less than eight hours from here by car," he said, estimating the distance with his fingers. "... as the crow flies. Tell you what," he paused thinking. He raised a finger and spoke. "Since you and the door technically interfered with my choice and I haven't made reservations yet, I'll choose again."

Scully stood aside and watched. Mulder took up the map and once again pinned it to the bulletin board. Dart in hand. He returned to his desk. He took aim, closed his eyes, and threw.

They were both surprised with the result. "Looks like St. Charles it is," he said. A faint smile twitched Mulder's lips as he wondered what the probability of hitting the same spot was, considering the map had been moved and there was no interference on the second shot.

Scully pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear as she sat in Mulder's spare chair. "So what made you change your mind and choose now to take your vacation?"

"I just thought about it and realized that I agreed with you. It is the perfect opportunity and we both know how infrequent vacation opportunities can be sometimes." Mulder pushed a stack of papers, topped with an unfinished gray plastic model, toward the center of his desk and sat on the corner.

"Scully, you're the one who pointed out that there weren't any pressing cases and, like Frohike would say, 'that last case was a doozie'. Maybe I should get away for a few days and unwind a little."

"What did Skinner have to say?"

"Not much. He gave his approval but I think that he was a little disappointed that I wasn't going to taking more days."

-----

Mulder spent the rest of the afternoon clarifying various hand written notes on several files that he had been working or consulting on. He gathered the completed files and placed the stack on his filing cabinet. He then shuffled the remaining files into a half neat stack and left them lying in the center of his desk.

Mulder grabbed his coat off the rack. The completed files off the cabinet and left his office, locking the door behind him. He rode the elevator up to the second floor and dropped off the completed files before heading home to pack.

------


	2. Chapter 2

Friday 10:50 a.m.-- 8th Floor : J. Edger Hoover Building

Mulder leaned forward in his chair and put his left elbow on the conference table, resting his forehead against his hand. He looked down his nose at his watch. It was nearly eleven. He had sat quietly through the 8:00 a.m. 'emergency' meeting wishing that he hadn't bothered answering the phone when it had rung at six a.m. If he hadn't answered the call Mulder figured that he would have been halfway to St. Charles.

The administrative speaker, --a short, plump, grey haired, career executive-- was lecturing on a short memo outlining the "newly devised" information routing procedure. The procedure was intended to speed up the processing of information gathered from operations in the field and crime scenes, therefore making the information more readily available to all the involved agents and agencies.

It had taken Mulder just three minutes to read and commit the memo to memory.

On the first page of his yellow notepad Mulder had thoroughly broken the memo down, analyzing the word patterns and possible alternate interpretations. Beneath the meticulous breakdown were several 'helpful' suggestions for the new system. Mulder sighed heavily as the speaker began to go over the procedure "just one more time".

At this rate, Mulder thought, Agent Thorvald will have lockjaw long before he's sure that everyone clearly understands the six line, fifty-two word, memo. Mulder looked around the table and saw that most of his colleagues were just as bored as he was. Mulder turned another page on his notepad and resumed writing as the speaker ground on.

The 'emergency' meeting adjourned just before noon. Scully, who had been sitting at the far end of the table from him, walked up to him as he continued to write notes on his notepad.

"Mulder. It's over now. You can go," she said, looking over his shoulder.

"Just a minute Scully." He scribbled a dozen lines more and tore four pages out of the pad. "Could you put these on Van's desk for me?" He asked, standing.

"Sure." Scully took the papers and asked, "What's all this?"

"A theory on his call-girl case and a few random thoughts that he might want to consider. Oh...," Mulder said, pulling a neatly folded page out of his pad. "... and this one is just for you." He smiled. "See you on Monday."

"Monday," she acknowledged as Mulder walked out of the room. Scully unfolded the crisply creased page and looked at the cartoon Mulder had drawn on it. It showed a conference room filled with skeletons sprawled all over the chairs and table. At the front of the room, on the floor, next to the chalkboard was a lone heap of bones. Beside the bones was a set of wind-up teeth still chattering away.

The subheading read, "Let me go over this one more time."

Scully smiled and tried very hard not to laugh aloud.

------

Dana Scully brushed her medium length red hair as she watched the evening weather report. The newscaster reported that despite the previous good weather forecast, the Appalachian Corridor was being hammered by the worst storm of the season. She looked at her watch. It was just after ten. Even by his best guess Mulder told her that he wouldn't be arriving at the Shady Grove Bed and Breakfast until after midnight. She looked up as a second reporter, standing out in the driving rain and wearing a camouflaged rain slicker spoke to the camera.

"-- flash flooding has caused several bridges in southwestern Virginia to be washed out. Residents in low lying areas of Lee, Scott, Wise..." The man paused and consulted his soggy notes, "...Dickinson, Russell and Washington counties are urged to seek higher ground. The National Weather Service advises that due to the stationary low pressure zone, this storm is now expected to linger in the area another twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

Scully turned down the volume and picked up her phone. She dialed Mulder's cell-phone number, and then hung up before the call was completed. She remembered that he always traveled with the radio on and he would be well aware of the weather updates. She brushed her hair one last time, turned off the television and headed to bed.

------

APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS -- 11:21 PM FRIDAY

The dark, rain-slick dirt road wound through the Appalachian Mountains. Lightning flashed constantly through the steady downpour. There had been a bridge out near Dryden: the patrolman at a road block suggested that he take this rural route to get to St. Charles.

Mulder was beginning to wonder, as he listened to the static filled radio broadcast of the weather conditions, if he had missed a turn somewhere along the way as he splashed slowly along the gravel road. He looked at his watch. It was well past eleven.

He flinched as a flash of lightning lit the sky, nearly blinding him; thunder shook the car a breath later. The storm was definitely growing worse, Mulder realized as the wipers continued their valiant fight to keep the windshield clear. If it didn't let up soon he'd have to pull off the road and wait until the storm passed.

------

Scully started awake. She wasn't sure why. She lay in the darkness listening intently, her fingers resting lightly on her gun. The sounds of the tires of the infrequent cars hissing by in the rain and a dog barking in the distance were all she heard. Scully rolled over and looked at the digital readout on her clock. The LEDs told her it was nearly three in the morning.

Scully rolled back on her pillow and suddenly thought about Mulder. She realized that she felt uneasy about his safety. She sat up and turned on the light, deciding to check on him.

Scully could hear Mulder giving her grief about being a mother hen even as she picked up the phone. She tried Mulder's cell-phone number. The phone made one half-ring. The line was suddenly filled with static and a horrible squealing noise, just before it went silent. She looked at the phone, hung up, and dialed again. It was busy.

She wondered if the lightning storm could be interfering with the cell-towers that covered the rural areas of southern Virginia. Scully pulled a pen and paper out of the drawer, and then dialed the Virginia operator.

"This is Karen. What city please?"

"St. Charles," Scully replied, "I need the number for the Shady Grove Bed and Breakfast, please."

"One moment." The operator paused. "Here is your number."

"Thank you," Scully said but the operator had already switched her over to the computer. She scribbled the number and waited for the computer to repeat it. Scully hung up and then dialed the number she was given.

The phone rang half a dozen times before someone picked up the phone. "Shady Grove," a sleepy female voice said. In those two words Scully pictured a matronly woman in her early sixties.

"Ma'am. I'm sorry to disturb you at such a late hour but I'm trying to reach one of your guests. Could you tell me if Mr. Mulder has checked in?"

"I'm afraid he hasn't arrived yet. Can I leave him a message?"

"Tell him Dana Scully called and have him call me the minute he gets in."

There was a pause. "Got it. Does he have the number?"

"Yes, he does. Thank you," Scully said as she hung up. Where are you Mulder, she wondered as she pulled on her slippers. She grabbed her white terry cloth bathrobe and went into the living room turning on the television to check on the storm's progress.

------

Scully dozed fitfully in her overstuffed recliner until the phone rang just after dawn. "Hello," she said sleepily.

"Agent Scully?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes."

"Mr. Skinner would like you to come in to work at nine-thirty today. He has a new project and would like to discuss the details with you."

"Okay, I'll be there."

Dana hung up the phone, then picked it up and pressed redial. The phone rang twice. "Good morning, Shady Grove Bed and Breakfast." It was the same matronly woman she had awakened during the night.

"Good morning, could you tell me if Mr. Mulder has checked in yet?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Dana," the woman said apparently recognizing her voice. It was uncanny, but Scully was sure that if she breathed deeply she would smell fresh baked cinnamon rolls, wheat bread, and Southern peach cobbler. The woman continued, "Harold's done gone out in the tractor to check the road. It has a tendency to washout when we get this kind of rain. I'm sure that he and Mr. Mulder will be in for breakfast shortly. I've your message from last night. I'll make sure that he calls you first thing."

"Thank you," Scully replied distantly.

"You all right, Miss Dana?"

"Yes, fine. I'm just a little worried about him with the storm and all."

"Dear, don't you worry none," the woman said confidently. "He'll be all right; I can feel it in my bones."

Scully smiled at the confidence and warmth the woman's voice radiated over the phone. She thanked her and hung up. A short while later Scully began to make preparations to go to work. She fixed and ate her breakfast. Halfway through her shower she wondered, belatedly, why Skinner was calling her in on her scheduled weekend off. He didn't do that without good reason.

------

Scully opened the door outer to A. D. Skinner's office. There was no one at the reception desk. That wasn't unusual, being Saturday. She crossed to Skinner's door and knocked twice.

"Come."

Dana opened the door. "You wanted to talk to me, sir?"

A puzzled look crossed Skinner's face as he looked up from a thick report he was reading. "About what, Agent Scully?"

Scully stepped into the room, noting that his out box was nearly a foot and a half deep in files and papers. "I got a phone call early this morning. I thought that it was from your receptionist. The woman said that you wanted me to come in, to discuss the details of a new project."

Skinner put down the file. "The call didn't come from this office," he said. "I just got here a few minutes ago myself."

"That's strange," Scully said.

"No more than your partner suddenly asking for time off," Skinner stated. "Do you know if there was an ulterior motive for his request?"

"There wasn't one that I was aware of, sir. I just suggested that he should try taking some extra time off. Our last case really wrung him out. I thought by taking an extra day, he'd be more rested for next week." Scully paused, thinking. "He did mention that he thought he might do some hiking."

Apparently satisfied with her explanation Skinner folded his hands over the report on his desk and asked, "As long as you're here, the Carter Report has been jumped to the top of the priority list. Would you be willing to put in some overtime hours in on it?" Skinner asked, giving her the option.

"Sure. I'll put in eight hours in on it today, for an extra day and a half off at the end of the month."

"Deal," Skinner leaned forward slightly, handing her an envelope containing a stack of manila folders to take with her to the lab.

------

There was a loud knock at the door. Scully sat back in her chair, removing a glove and her protective glasses. She looked at her watch. It was nearly seven. "Come in," Scully said, rubbing the bridge of her nose as the door opened.

A. D. Skinner entered the lab and walked over to the counter Scully was sitting at. He stood there a moment before he asked, "Agent Scully, do you know exactly where Agent Mulder was going for the weekend?"

She looked at him, puzzled by his formality. "St. Charles, Virginia. Why?"

There was another ominous pause before he asked another question. "Have you spoken to Agent Mulder recently?"

"Not since that 'emergency' meeting yesterday morning. He left town around a quarter to one, I think. Is something wrong?" she asked, standing.

It was a minute before Skinner spoke. His face had already betrayed the gravity of what he was about to say. "Agent Mulder's car has been found ... submerged in a flooded stream northeast of Dryden, Virginia."

Scully paled visibly. It couldn't be true, she thought, Mulder is a cautious driver, more so when the weather is bad. There was one way she knew of to find out for sure. Scully removed the cell-phone from the pocket of her lab coat. Her finger shook slightly as she dialed Mulder's cell-number. The phone company's computer told her that the line was out of order. Then she dialed the bed and breakfast in St. Charles.

"Shady Grove Bed and Breakfast."

"Has Mr. Mulder checked in yet?" Scully asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Miss Dana?" the woman questioned.

"Yes.

"Mr. Mulder hasn't come in yet and we haven't heard from him either. Harold says that our road is in good shape all the way down to Stone Creek Junction. Maybe he's had some car trouble further out."

"Thank you. Please call me at 202-555-3564 if you hear anything, anything at all."

"I'll do that, Miss Dana."

"Thank you." Scully hung up and put the phone back in her pocket. "The people running the place he was supposed to have stayed at last night haven't heard from him yet. They'll be calling call me if they hear something."

Scully suddenly thought about Mulder's dart shot, his quick agreement to take a short vacation, and the phone call she had received that morning. Most likely coincidence, she thought, but it did seem to be adding up to the 'weird stuff' that was Mulder's life blood. Scully looked at Skinner and saw in his face that he had already come to his own conclusions.

"Scully ..." Skinner paused and watched as Scully quickly stored the slides she had been studying back in their trays and put them back in the refrigerated locker. He knew what she was thinking but was one step ahead of her. He walked over to the coat-tree that stood by the door, removed her coat and handed it to her. "I want you to go over to Dryden and see if you can lend them a hand in locating Agent Mulder. I'll have you booked on the nine o'clock flight to Roanoke, Virginia by the time you arrive at the airport."

------

Within an hour Scully boarded a full commuter plane bound for Roanoke. She checked before boarding and found that there would be a rental car waiting for her when she arrived. Scully found her seat and placed her carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment.

She sat beside a dark haired woman in a bright floral dress. The woman turned her gaze from the darkness beyond the window, smiled faintly, and acknowledged Scully with a nod. A few minutes later the stewardesses began checking to see that the passengers and their gear were safely secured for take off.

Several minutes passed slowly, Scully looked at her watch as the plane remained idle at the terminal. Their plane's captain informed them a few minutes later, that the tower had decided that it was too dangerous for the plane to take off. There was a potential for wind shear and unusually heavy lightning activity. A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder emphasized his words.

After the fasten seat belt lights went out the flight attendants served refreshments and offered papers and magazines to their anxious passengers.

Scully scanned the paper she was given. The title to a small article on the fourth page caught her eye. It read, "Roanoke's Lost Colony: fact or fiction?" A faint smile twitched the corners of her mouth as she read on.

The woman beside her took out a lap sized drawing pad and a box of well used colored pencils. She began to draw, frantically, Scully realized. Almost as if she were trying to catch a fleeting image before it faded from memory.

Scully looked over at the woman's drawing occasionally. It had taken on the appearance of a collage with thin white borders surrounding the various images. There was a group of figures, some dressed in red from head to toe, and others were wearing grey and black uniforms. There was a badge of some sort beneath a band of bright green that crossed the picture horizontally. A blue car rested in one corner next to a tree. At the center was a white number centered in a red band of color. Other items included a white dress and a figure in silhouette. As she colored the back ground it took on a color near black with streaks of lightning crossing it. Every time the woman added a figure or color, she ran her hand over the picture touching it with the tips of her fingers.

After two hours idling on the ground, the storm activity had lessened. Outside the plane Scully saw a fuel truck pull up along side the plane. The crew of the truck topped off the plane's fuel supply and a short while later the commuter trundled out to the end of the runway and lifted itself into the still turbulent skies.

It was a rough flight but there were no unexpected surprises. Scully touched the small gold cross hanging at her throat and thanked God that they had arrived safely. As Scully departed from the plane she heard a male passenger saying that he felt like a James Bond martini ... shaken but not stirred. Scully smiled.

The keys for the rental car were waiting for her as promised. Scully was just pulling out of the rain soaked parking lot when her cell-phone rang. She pulled over to the curb and stopped.

"Hello?"

"Agent Dana Scully?"

"Yes."

"This is Sheriff Muldoon, Lee County," he said in an easy drawl. "The Assistant Director told me to expect you and gave me your number."

"Have you found Agent Mulder yet?" she asked anxious to find out about Mulder.

"I'm sorry, not yet."

"I'll be there in about four hours to lend a hand. Which way is the best to get to Dryden?" she asked, pulling a pen and paper out of her purse. The sheriff gave her directions that sounded a little convoluted, but apparently there was a lot of storm damage to avoid. "Thank you. Please be sure to call if you turn up anything at all."

"Sure will."

Scully pulled out onto the road. A few minutes later she found herself driving down the narrow two-lane road, much faster than was safe and slowed accordingly.

------

Scully pulled up to the front of the Lee County Sheriff's Office. She turned off the engine and took a deep breath, glad to have arrived safely.

As she stepped out of the rental car a white five-ton flatbed truck, with flashing amber and white emergency lights, carrying a battered vehicle pulled quickly around the corner headed toward the back of the building. Scully walked around the building and found the chain-link enclosed impound yard.

Under the orange glow of the impound yard's sodium lights Scully could see that it appeared to be Mulder's car sitting on the back of the flatbed truck. The car was pretty badly banged up. She looked up into the night sky as the rain began falling again. She waited under the shelter of a broad leafed oak tree as the car was lowered down the ramp into a numbered parking spot.

A man, obviously the sheriff, emerged a moment later from the back of the building. He was about six feet tall with dark tufts of hair sticking out from under his wide brimmed hat and only a little over weight. A smile twitched Scully's lips as she watched him walk over to speak to the flat bed operator. He had the swagger of an old west sheriff down to a science. All he needed was a pearl handled Colt in a tied-down holster to complete the picture.

Scully materialized from the shadows under the tree, put up her umbrella and went directly over to the men. "Dana Scully, F.B.I." she said as the truck operator noted her approach. She removed her ID from the pocket of her overcoat and showed it to the sheriff.

"Miss Scully, I'm glad you made it safely and your timing is impeccable," the sheriff said, shaking her hand. "This's the car we called your office about."

She looked the car over and glanced at the license plate just to be sure. Her heart grew cold as she confirmed the license plate's numbers. "It's his," she told the sheriff. "Do you have any leads?"

"Nothing so far. We still have search teams out but with the darkness and this unseasonable weather, Agent Mulder's chances aren't all that good. Now, shall we go inside and get an update on the search."

The sheriff led the way into the building. Once inside, he removed his hat and dried it off carefully with a towel that hung from a hook by the door. He took Scully's coat, brushed it off with the towel and hung it next to his hat, then led the way to his command post.

The command post consisted of a desk, a radio base station, an ancient black phone, and one oversized county map crisscrossed with a grid of string lines and stuck full of colored pins, a few with tiny flags on them.

A deputy was sitting at the desk listening to an incoming radio report through his headset. He pushed a button on the side of the mike and spoke, "Confirmed unit three. Take care of yourself. Base out." The deputy reached out and removed a flag-pin. The deputy placed it to the side of the map with a dozen similarly flagged pins.

"Sheriff," the young man said turning to look at his commander. "Taylor's pulled out of the search. His horse stepped in a hole. Nothing broken, but he and the horse are done for the day. Taylor says he'll be out again after first light. Jorgenson's the only one still out now, with dogs. He reports that because of heavy rain in his area, he may have to hole up for the rest of the night but he's staying out in the field. Including Jorgenson there are four teams remaining out in the field."

Sheriff Muldoon looked at Scully. Her face had grown pale as she looked at the map. He knew the report had to have upset her but her emotions remained tight within her professional shell. She turned away from the map and asked him, "When will the other search teams be returning to the field?"

"They'll all be out again at first light." He checked his watch. "In about four hours."

"Is there a place I can rest here? I'd like to go out to the site where Agent Mulder's car was found in the morning and then I'd like to help with the search."

"That can all be easily arranged Miss Scully, although, I don't think it'll be necessary. Jorgenson is one of the best search and rescue men in the area. If your partner is anywhere to be found, Jorgenson will be the one to find him," the sheriff said confidently. "He's my top hand."


	3. Chapter 3

Sunday 7:30 a.m. -- Near Dryden, VA

Under Sheriff Tom Jorgenson relaxed as he leaned against the partially rusty body of an abandoned car, smoking the stub of a cheap cigar. The sun had cleared the ridge causing early morning mists to rise off the stream become river. He picked up his green plastic coffee cup and leisurely drank what was left of the steaming contents. Jorgenson reattached the cup to the Thermos bottle and put it into the side pocket of his backpack.

His hounds bayed loudly as they chased through the thick undergrowth. As he watched a squirrel broke from cover running for its life up a nearby tree. Jorgenson smiled wide and he flicked the cigar butt into the water.

He looked over his shoulder, through the shattered windshield of the rusty abandoned car. On the deteriorated front seat, huddled in a tight ball, was still form of Fox Mulder.

The under sheriff pulled the car door open and crawled inside. He looked at Mulder's pale blue-white features and pulled off a leather glove. He checked for a carotid pulse. Mulder's heart was still beating, slowly. Jorgenson sighed heavily, then pulled an old wool army blanket out of his pack and tucked it in around Mulder's body.

Jorgenson crawled out of the car, checked his watch, and pulled his radio microphone out from under his jacket. "Jorgenson to Base."

"Go ahead, Tom."

"Found him. He's alive and in real poor shape. Looks like he's got himself a bad case of hypothermia. Have Myrtle get a hold of John. We'd best chopper Agent Mulder out, quick like."

There was a pause before the radio hissed back at him. "Base to Jorgenson. Myrtle says John will be there in a flash. He's already got his bird warmed up. What's your location?"

"I'm at the old Fergus Crossing on the northwest side of the bridge."

"Check."

"Is that federal agent still in the office or did she go out this morning?"

"She's still here. I think she's napping in the sheriff's office."

"Might want to have someone take her over to the hospital."

"Check."

Jorgenson reached into his pack and removed three chemical warmers, specifically designed for use on hypothermia victims. He broke the vials inside each pouch and shook them vigorously. When they began to give off their gentle warmth he crawled back inside the car. Jorgenson placed the warmers beneath Mulder's arms and inside his shirt over his heart where they would do him the most good. Within twenty minutes Jorgenson could hear the sound of a helicopter coming in low over the trees.

John, the pilot of the two-seat bush chopper, spun the helicopter one hundred eighty degrees so the copilot's seat was facing the stream bank and landed as close to the abandoned car as he could. The helicopter settled with the pilot's side skid ankle deep in the water.

John and Under Sheriff Jorgenson managed to get Mulder's unconscious form secured in the copilot's seat a few minutes later. Jorgenson knelt and held onto his hat as the helicopter rose slowly out of the water. Once clear of the trees, the helicopter headed cross country to Dryden.

Jorgenson rounded up his dogs with a shrill whistle and headed back upstream to his rig.

------

Dana Scully woke with a start as the door to the sheriff's office opened. She sat up in a hurry, her disorientation quickly fading as she recognized the night dispatcher.

"Agent Scully, they've found Agent Mulder and he is alive!"

"Wonderful! Where is he?" she asked. As she stood she ran a hand through her hair and straightened her suit.

"They're taking him to the hospital by chopper. They should be in by the time you get there. Myrtle will be over with a car in a few minutes to take you to him."

"Thank you," Scully said. Picking up her beige topcoat, she saw a neatly folded paper fall from her pocket. She picked it up and stuffed back inside as she walked toward the door.

"There's fresh coffee and donuts if you want," He offered as he led the way.

"Coffee would be fine, thank you." Scully said as she followed him out of the office. He led the way to the army sized coffee urn. She accepted a styrofoam cup and sipped the steaming brew.

"So," the dispatcher started as he poured a cup for himself. Scully cringed internally, as she recognized the tone in his opening word. Knowing that it often led up to the standard questions her about her relationship with Mulder. "How long have you known Agent Mulder?"

Scully took another sip of coffee and hoped that Myrtle wouldn't be long in coming. Luckily, Myrtle arrived and Scully was whisked off to the Lee County Hospital a few minutes later.

------

Scully watched the helicopter through the rain streaked window of the car as it flew over their heads and landed on the grass in front of the hospital. Myrtle negotiated the pothole filled parking lot of the hospital and pulled up to the front doors as two attendants rushed out a side door to meet the helicopter with a gurney.

Myrtle led Scully into the hospital and down the corridor that would allow Scully to meet the attendants as they entered the hospital. It was only a minute or so before the attendants entered the corridor with a heavily bundled figure on the gurney.

"Wait!" The attendants paused as Scully hurried towards them. "F.B.I.," she said with authority as she got closer. "I need to verify this person's identity." Scully carefully pushed aside the blankets that covered the figure's head. Thank God, she thought as she saw Mulder's familiar features.

The doctor arrived a moment later. "Let's get this man into the ER."

Scully started to follow them but she was intercepted at the door. "We'll take care of him now Miss Scully. The waiting room is available and there is fresh coffee in the urn," the nurse said firmly.

------

The nurse looked up from her notes. She wasn't sure if her charge had shifted position or not, so she put his chart down on the table and went to check. She quietly slipped up beside the recovery room bed and checked on Special Agent Fox Mulder. His shivering had decreased considerably over the last hour. The nurse looked up at his vitals monitor.

Mulder's heart rate and blood pressure were back up to near normal and his temperature was only a few degrees low. She gently pushed a stray lock of black hair off his forehead. Mulder stirred restlessly.

The nurse picked up the phone and called the doctor on duty. "Doctor? Agent Mulder is regaining consciousness." There was a pause as she listened. "Yes sir, draw blood for analysis and add a five percent glucose drip to the IV."

The nurse went to the cabinet and removed the supplies she would need along with the requested IV solution. She was returning to Mulder's bedside when she noticed that he was struggling against the layers of warming blankets that were covering him.

She set the tray on the counter next to his chart and went to the bed side. "Mr. Mulder, please lie still. You're safe. You're in the Lee County Hospital."

He didn't seem to hear her. Mulder continued to struggle. His heart rate began to sky rocket along with his blood pressure, setting off several alarms.

She lay her hand on his bared shoulder to calm him. It had the opposite effect. Mulder went wild crying out as if he were being chased or attacked. "Mr. Mulder, calm down! You Are Safe! You are in the hospital!" Even in his weakened condition she found it difficult to control his struggles. A moment later the doctor arrived and came her rescue.

The doctor held Mulder down as the nurse tied his wrists to the bed rails with strips of tape. Then she went for the sedative that the doctor ordered for the combative Agent.

------

It had been five hours since Scully had last seen her partner. Scully looked up as the doors to the recovery room opened and a bed was pushed out into the corridor. Scully stood as he was wheeled passed her and down the corridor to a private room. She followed in the wake of his attending doctor and nurses.

Once Mulder was settled in a room, Scully was allowed in to see him; automatically she went to his side and checked his pulse. She noted that his skin color was near normal and was losing its clammy feel. She hoped that there wasn't any permanent damage done. She leaned closer as he stirred.

"Mulder?" she asked cautiously.

His brow wrinkled and he shivered. He opened his brown eyes a moment later and looked at her. His expression was blank.

"It's over Mulder. You're safe now," Scully said encouragingly. She momentarily resisted the urge to brush the lock of hair that rested on his brow back into place.

"Scully?" Mulder asked softly as he focused on her.

"Yes, it's me. Sleep now, we'll talk more in the morning."

Mulder mumbled something but Scully didn't catch what it was. She didn't press him to repeat it because she knew he needed to rest. They would talk more in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

LEE COUNTY HOSPITAL -- MONDAY AM

"What happened?" Mulder asked, from beneath a mound of soft warm covers.

"You are having quite the adventuresome vacation," Scully said, pulling her chair closer to the bedside. "You're in Dryden Virginia, specifically in the Lee County Hospital. You were in a car accident. Apparently you lost control, went over the embankment of a washed out road and slid into the creek."

A nurse poked her head in the room, "I heard voices. Is everything all right?"

"Could you bring some broth?" Scully asked.

"Sure. It'll be a few minutes."

"That's fine."

Scully turned back to Mulder. "Near as the sheriff could tell you managed to get out of the car and swim to shore about a mile down stream. Once ashore, you walked quite a way before taking shelter in an abandoned vehicle. That's where the under sheriff found you early yesterday. You're recovering from hypothermia and shock but you'll live.

Mulder looked at her, puzzled. "Where was I going?" he wondered aloud, his head pounding.

"St. Charles, Virginia, for a quote short vacation, unquote," Scully replied reassuringly.

He put his hand to his head, trying to remember but couldn't. "Vacation? I don't take vacations."

"Not normally, but this one was a spur of the moment vacation. Don't worry about remembering the details right now, you're memory will return soon enough. Temporary memory loss is one of the symptoms of hypothermia and that bump on your head from the accident probably isn't helping either."

The nurse returned with the requested cup of soup. "Here drink this. It'll help drive the last of the chills away."

------

"I'm going to get your paperwork. I'll be right back," Scully said as she started for the door.

"Okay."

Mulder sat before the room's one small mirror and prepared to shave. He scratched the stubble under his chin and noticed a faint red line that followed the curve of his jaw. He put a hand to his head as a memory flashed by. It didn't make sense. He saw glowing red then green lights. Along with the colors he had the feeling of being trapped, then nothing.

He looked up in the mirror and saw Scully standing behind him. "You okay?" she asked, concerned. He realized that some time had passed since her arrival.

"What's this?" he asked pointing to the faded line running through his three day old stubble.

Scully looked at the underside of his chin closely. "Looks like you tangled with a marker pen."

Scully watched as Mulder shaved. He seemed to be okay and the doctor had cleared him to leave, with the provision that Scully watch him closely. She reached into the pocket of her coat for paper and pen to write down a list of things that she would need for her report to A. D. Skinner. She wrote her list on a folded paper. Halfway through her list she wondered just what she was writing on, and unfolded the paper.

Scully looked upon the picture that the woman was drawing on the airplane. She paled as she looked the picture over carefully. At the bottom the woman had added a note. It read: The one you seek will be found. Thoughts jumbled by others are hard to connect. Persevere, the truth is out there. She refolded the paper and stuffed it back into her pocket.

"Well, I'm ready to go," Mulder said as he wiped the last of the shave cream from his face.

-----

Scully walked across the impound lot to the sheriff's office and up to the rear entrance. Mulder watched as his partner opened the door and disappeared inside the building. She was in search of a county map, copies of the accident report for A. D. Skinner's files and directions to where Mulder and his car were found.

Fox Mulder walked around the building and stopped in the impound yard to look at his car. It was badly battered and he thought, looked to be unsalvageable. The hood was wrinkled and the latch was sprung. He pushed the hood open further and removed his spare keys from beneath the lid of the air cleaner. He went to the trunk, turned the key, and heard the lock release but the lid wouldn't open.

After exerting some pressure on it the lid opened reluctantly. Mulder looked inside. The interior was a soggy mess. He removed the contents of his suitcase and his canvas hiking boots and placed them in a large plastic bag.

He heard foot steps and looked up as Scully peeked around the trunk lid and said, "You should get that stuff dried out as soon as possible, or it'll mold."

"I don't think your hotel has a public laundry."

"That's okay; I saw a laundromat on our way here. It's only a couple of blocks away."

------

Scully dropped Mulder off at the laundromat. He watched as she pulled away from the curb headed to a nearby mini-mall to pick up a few things for him. He slung the sack filled with his soggy clothing over his shoulder and entered the laundry.

The room reminded Mulder of any small town laundry you could imagine. A dozen goldenrod colored washers ran down the center of the room, on the left side was a bank of six white dryers, and on the right was a long pale green folding table. The walls were a color that once could have been white but there was no way to tell for sure.

Mulder stepped up to the soap dispenser, purchased enough for two loads. He crossed over to two empty washers and sorted his bi-color laundry, whites in the right machine and dark colors in the left. Once his washers were stirring up satisfactory amounts of fluffy white suds Mulder took a chair next to the window and picked up a well read, three month old magazine. A few minutes later Mulder looked up as a tall dark haired woman entered the laundry.

She wore a knee length white sun dress, tall white sox and tennis shoes. Her hair was tied back with a strip of yellow ribbon. Mulder was sure that he knew her from somewhere.

-----

Scully entered the laundry an hour and a half hour later and found her partner watching a woman unloading a dryer. As she approached, Scully noticed that Mulder was not watching but staring vacantly in the woman's direction.

"Mulder?"

He continued to stare unblinking. She was about to touch his shoulder when the woman shook out a white towel with a loud snap. Mulder flinched as if he had been shot.

He blinked several times and looked around a little lost. When he saw her, his face became an impassive mask. "Hi, Scully. I didn't hear you come in."

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. I was just lost in thought."

"Did you remember something about the accident?"

"Sort of. Before the accident I remember someone in white crossing the road in front of me. I don't remember hitting the person but I think I bumped a tree avoiding who ever it was."

"Could it have been an animal?'

"I don't think so. I also remember a woman."

"What did she look like?"

"A lot like her," Mulder said indicating the woman with a nod as she left the building with a basket of laundry. "But not quite."

Scully followed Mulder out to the rental car, pausing to make a note in her notebook about the woman in white.

------

"According to this report, they found your car down there," Scully said pointing down stream from where she stood on the embankment.

"It appears that it was pulled up to the road over here." Mulder said as he crouched at the side of the road, examining the extrication marks.

The ground had been churned up by a vehicle and there were boot prints of several people as well. Mulder picked up a rock and tossed it into the fast moving stream. Standing, Mulder looked out across the rolling farmland that surrounded the washed out bridge. It didn't match with the fragments of what he remembered from before the accident.

Mulder stared into the rushing water, trying to pull more memories out of the fog that his accident was shrouded in.

------

Rain blurred the window as the wipers ran at full blast. Between strokes Mulder saw a young woman in a white dress dashed out of the dark woods bordering the road, frantically waving her hands. She stopped in the beam of his car's headlights. Mulder slammed on his brakes. The car skidded, narrowly missing the woman. Mulder didn't have time to correct and avoid the tree.

Slowly he leaned back against the seat. His head hurt from hitting the steering wheel. He put his hand to his brow and wondered how long it was going to be before he could afford a vehicle with an air bag. Thunder following daylight-bright lightning rocked the car as the wipers tried to clear the now torrential rains. Mulder gingerly touched the knot on his forehead then ran his fingers back through his hair.

"Mr. Mulder, I need your help," she said softly from the seat beside him.

------

"Mulder, did you remember something," Scully asked.

"Just bits and pieces," he paused. "Scully, lets go back to Dryden for some dinner. Then I'd like to go up to Big Stone Gap and retrace my path from there."

"Okay, but I can't see what good it will do if this is where your car was found."

"Humor me," Mulder said heading for the car.

------

They reached Big Stone Gap by mid-evening. The sun was beginning to set. They traded places and Mulder took the wheel. He closed his eyes and said, "It was raining hard and dark. There was very little on coming traffic. I drove for a while before I came to the road block."

Mulder checked his mirror and pulled out, trying to drive at the same speed he had that night. After about fifteen minutes he slowed and pulled off to the side of the road, allowing other faster traffic to go by them. He closed his eyes again trying to remember the officer that had been manning the road block.

The man was silhouetted by a flash of lightning. There was a tall, silvery tree in the background lit up by the lightning. "There will be a tall bark-less tree on the left near the turnoff I took," Mulder said finally.

They continued on, Mulder's frustration growing as the miles passed. Eventually they reached Dryden. "Mulder," Scully said finally, "are you sure about what you remember? Disorientation is also a common symptom of hypothermia."

Mulder looked at her and turned the car around, heading back to Big Stone Gap. About eight miles out of town, Mulder pulled over. He leaned forward against the steering wheel and looked intently out the windshield at the right hand shoulder of the road.

Scully looked out and saw the evening sunlight reflecting brilliantly off a new section of four strand barbed wire fence. She saw Mulder's smile as he got out of the car.

He skidded down the shallow embankment and walked over to the fence line. Scully watched as he hopped the fence and began digging with his hands until he cleared what appeared to be a tree stump that had been cut flush with the ground. He returned a few minutes later with a handful of dry sawdust.

"The tree probably came down during the storm," Scully said counteracting the conspiracy theory that she knew was building in the back of Mulder's mind.

"Maybe," he said.

------

"This looks more like what I remember," Mulder said as they drove down the dirt road.

Scully watched Mulder closely as he drove slowly along the dirt road. She was becoming very concerned: Mulder's car was found nearly ten miles away in a different drainage, unless somehow this road came out there. But the map didn't indicate any junction that would lead in that direction.

After a while Mulder got out. He walked along the muddy road with Scully following behind him in the car. His flashlight shone on all the trees near the left side of the road. He suddenly and knelt beside a tree near the roadway.

Scully stopped the car and got out. Mulder was scraping some mud off the trunk of the tree. Beneath the splashed mud was a fresh scar. "This is the tree I hit," Mulder said confidently.

"So, a woman in white ran out of the woods, there," Scully said pointing to the hillside on the right of the road. "You swerved to miss her and hit this tree on the left."

"That's right."

"Then what happened?"

"I think that was when I banged my head. I remember her asking for my help. Red and green lights then nothing else."

"Red and green lights?"

"I don't remember why there were red and green lights but yes, red and green lights."

They returned to the car. Scully was unconvinced as to the accuracy of her partner's memories. Mulder drove further up the road passing an assortment of road construction equipment parked off the side of the road. They rounded a wide bend in the road to the right. They could both see where a storm swollen stream crossed beneath the road.

Scully watched as her partner scanned each crossing with the assistance of his flashlight, occasionally he closed his eyes as if comparing what he saw to what he remembered.

By the time they reached the end of the road they had crossed a dozen streams. None of the crossings seemed to be storm damaged. Scully was sure that Mulder was mistaken about recognizing the road. Mulder was just as sure that the road had been rebuilt.


	5. Chapter 5

LEE COUNTY IMPOUND YARD -- TUESDAY 8:00 AM

Mulder ran his fingers along the trunk lid. Now that he looked closer he could see where the trunk had been squeezed out of alignment. The rear quarter panels were slightly indented. Mulder crawled under the trunk of his car. He turned on his flash light and shined it on the mud that incased the underside. There was a definite indentation as if there had been a cargo strap run under the trunk.

He crawled clear and went to the front of the car. The front of the car showed the same squeeze marks as the trunk. Where the chrome was jagged from his brush with the tree he found bits of frayed yellow nylon like that used for cargo straps. His car had definitely been lifted vertically at some time after the accident. This was in direct conflict with the obvious drag marks on the stream side where his car was reportedly found.

On close examination of Mulder's car, Scully found small bits of bark lodged beneath the frame of the turn indicator. She carefully pried the pieces loose and slipped them into an evidence bag. She ran her fingers over the surface of the front quarter panel and found scratches in the paint that could have been caused by a tree.

Scully looked up from her examination of the quarter panel as Sheriff Muldoon's deputy came out of the building. He hurried across the lot. "Miss Scully," he said holding out a piece of paper. "A Mr. Skinner called. He was wondering when you would be returning to D.C. He asked that you call him at your earliest convenience."

------

OFFICE OF SPECIAL AGENT FOX MULDER -- WEDNESDAY NOON

Mulder sat at his desk, in his empty office, looking at his lunch. Then looked up at the map still hung from his bulletin board and wondered about the past few days.

He looked up as Scully opened the door. "You look like you're not feeling well," she observed.

"I'm okay; I just don't understand why my accident is such a blank spot in my memory."

"It happens that way sometimes," Scully said. "No one knows why."

"Scully, I feel like I did after that trip to Idaho. You remember the assignment just after we became partners."

Scully felt sick inside as she remembered the incident, "I remember."

"I still don't, that's the problem."

There was a momentary silence in the room before Scully spoke. "Mulder, I had a strange encounter on the plane as I was coming out to St. Charles to find you."

"Oh?" Mulder's interest was riveted as his partner rarely admitted that strange things happened to her as well.

Scully took a piece of folded paper out of her skirt pocket and handed it to him. "I saw a woman drawing this on the plane. I found it in my coat pocket after I reached St. Charles."

Mulder opened the paper slowly and as Scully watched she could see the color drain from his face. It was as if the picture had turned a key.

------

Mulder turned, realizing that the woman he had nearly hit was now beside him in the car and that he must have lost consciousness. Her voice was familiar. He was sure that he had heard her voice before. "How did you--" he started to ask.

He saw her smile in the light of another lightning bolt. She reached out and touched the corner of the ID tag that hung from the lapel of his topcoat with a long finger. The tag was so much a part of his life that he had forgotten to remove it before he left.

"Mr. Mulder, we must leave this place, now. They are following me."

He reached for the door handle. He had to check the car. She touched his shoulder and said softly, "The damage was slight. You are a skilled driver. We must go now while there is still time."

"Time?"

"They cannot track me in the storm," she explained.

"Who's after you and why," Mulder asked, starting the car.

"Please. We must go," she said, her voice quivering as she peered into the darkness.

"All right," Mulder agreed cautiously as he pulled back from the tree and began to drive slowly down the road. "Who's after you?" he asked again.

"They are," she said softly, staring out into the darkness.

He knew from previous experience that if a person is left to their own devices and they want to talk, they will eventually tell what you want to know so he asked something else instead.

"How far to the Stone Creek junction?

"About thirty air-miles. But this road doesn't go there."

"Where does this road go?"

"Black Mountain and safety."

"Does this road continue on through?" he asked.

"No. It dead ends."

He briefly wondered why the officer had indicated that this road was a valid detour. He considered the situation for a moment.

"What's your name," Mulder asked as he edged the car through a deep puddle near the bank of the road, looking for a spot wide enough to turn around in. He turned up the heat a notch. There was a cold chill in the car.

"Kastria." A flash of lightning and a clap of thunder that left their ears ringing drowned out what she said after that. Mulder slowed to a stop, blinking furiously as his eyes watered.

He felt her shiver beside him. "There's a blanket on the back seat. Wrap up and keep warm," he said as they started out again. He had driven about two miles when he noticed that, although the sky still flickered with lightning, the worst of the storm seemed to be past. He picked up speed as the condition of the weather and the road improved.

"Why are they following you?" he asked as they rounded a sharp curve.

"Watch out!" she shouted.

The road before them ended in a washout. Mulder slammed on the brakes and slid towards the water-caused precipice. Not again, he thought as the car neared the edge. He breathed a sigh of relief as the car came to a stop. It was precariously balanced on the edge of the washed-out road, the passenger front tire hanging out in thin air.

Kastria was sitting perfectly still, her eyes wide with fright. They seemed fairly stable for the moment, Mulder thought as he slowly opened his door a fraction. The car shifted slightly as another portion of the road collapsed into the torrent.

"Mulder," Kastria said. Her voice, muted by the sound of rushing water, seemed scarcely louder than a whisper. "I can't swim."

The car shuddered as another section of the road gave way into the rushing water. Mulder grabbed her by the wrist and shouted, "Jump!" as the car plunged into the icy torrent.

Mulder grabbed a low overhanging branch with his right hand and tightened his grip on Kastria with his left. His grip slipped and his muscles stretched painfully as the water pounded on his back and tried to push her away from him. Mulder pulled her towards him, keeping her head just out of the water.

When she was within reach of the branch he yelled, "Grab on!" Trying to hurry her as the cold torrent numbed his hands and drained his strength. Finally she grabbed hold of the limb. He pushed her further up on the limb for a better grip only to have his own fail.

Mulder quickly shed his top-coat as it kept trying to drag him under. Without its encumbrance he has better able to swim to the shore. He climbed shakily from the water, coughing his windpipe clear of the water he had half-swallowed and half-breathed getting to shore.

The wind whipped through his light suit jacket as Mulder climbed further up the bank and began to work his way back up stream to where he had left Kastria. He sorely wished he had changed after the last minute meeting he had had to attend that morning, but it had ended so late that he didn't want to waste the time. His faded denims and sweat shirt would have been much warmer he decided shivering.

It didn't take too long to find where Kastria had made it to shore. "Kastria," Mulder shouted into the darkness, trying to be heard above the sound of the rushing water beside him. He scanned the shore of the flooded stream. Luckily the rain was slowing and he could see a little further when the lightning flickered across the sky. At the soft touch on his shoulder, Mulder spun, his hand going instinctively for the gun that normally rode on his hip.

He faced a man about his same height and build, who held his hands up indicating he was no threat to the agent. "Who are you?" Mulder asked.

The weak glow of a half exhausted flashlight parted the darkness and illuminated the man more fully. He put his hand to his lips indicating that Mulder should be quiet. He looked over both shoulders, and then beckoned Mulder to follow him. The flashlight was turned off.

Mulder hesitated. He didn't want to leave the stream side until he found Kastria.

The dark-haired man handed the flashlight to Mulder, who turned it on. He watched the man walk to the waters edge. He mimed picking something up and carrying it away. He beckoned Mulder again and reached for the light.

Mulder returned the flashlight and took the dark haired man's outstretched hand. He was led carefully through the undergrowth to a steep rise in the terrain. They then proceeded along the hillside. About twenty minutes later Mulder was led into a cave.

He could hear their footsteps echoing down the rough passage. They made several turns and soon he could see a faint glow ahead. His guide pointed and indicated that Mulder should go on ahead.

Dubious Mulder did as he was asked. He rounded a rock outcrop into the light. He was greeted by the crackle of a warm fire in the center of the cavern. To one side, beneath a heap of furs was Kastria. Her clothes were spread out to dry. He shivered and began removing his own water soaked suit-coat.

There was a movement at the back of the cave. A tall, dark-haired, heavy set woman walked towards him. In one arm she was holding a basket of dry clothing; with the other hand she beckoned him to come closer to the fire. She set the clothing out of the basket on a flat stone and mimed undressing, then pointed at Mulder.

"I understand," he said, watching the dark-haired woman closely. She wore a high-necked red sweater and faded blue jeans. She looked at him strangely for a moment, then as the woman turned she made an unconscious gesture, she ran her fingers down her throat.

In profile he realized that her throat under the sweater was the wrong shape. It was too flat. Curious, Mulder watched as she walked to the back of the cavern.

Mulder quickly changed into the dry clothing. They didn't fit well, being baggy but warm on his shivering body. He went over to Kastria and knelt beside her. She was breathing shallowly. Mulder thought Kastria was asleep. The fire was warm. He crouched closer to it, absorbing the warmth.

Mulder stood and turned quickly, stepping away from the fire, on hearing a sound behind him. The woman stood there with another fur. She held it up slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Thank you," he said, taking it from her. He put the fur over his shoulders and wrapped up. It was warm and soft.

She then nodded and indicated he should return to the fire with a wave. Mulder sat on the ground and put his feet up on one of the stones surrounding the fire to warm his feet. He shivered.

The dark-haired woman brought two cups to the fire and handed him one. The cup was filled with a hot spicy broth. It was tasty and chased the chills away. She then knelt beside the Kastria and gently touched her shoulder. Startled awake, Kastria's eyes opened wide. She saw the woman beside her and tried to move away, and then she saw Mulder. The woman held the cup out to Kastria.

"It's okay. It's broth. It tastes wonderful," he added for their hostess's benefit. The dark-haired woman nodded, smiled faintly, and again offered the cup to Kastria. After Kastria took the cup the woman returned to the back of the cave.

"Where are we?" Kastria asked, sipping on the broth.

"I'm not real sure," Mulder admitted.

"How did we get here?"

He set his cup aside and ran his hand through his drying hair. "As I understand it they found you at the water's edge and brought you here. I guess they figured that there was someone else out in the weather and continued looking. The man found me while I was looking for you." He paused for a moment, looking at Kastria. Before he could say any more the man entered the cavern and went directly to the back where the woman waited impatiently with her hands on her hips.

Mulder watched carefully as they communicated with their hands. The woman was obviously furious; her gestures were wide and animated. Every so often she would run her hand down her throat. The man was less animated, but as passionate in his gestures. He too made the mysterious throat gesture.

Their argument lasted until they realized that they were being watched. Mulder was fairly confident that their argument involved Kastria and himself. The woman went out the back of the chamber in a huff, and the man came to the fire with more broth and bread. He offered some more to his guests.

"I'm fine," Mulder said.

Kastria broke off a hunk of bread from the loaf and handed it back. "Thank you. I'm sorry that we are an inconvenience to you and your wife." The last, was part question.

He shrugged and made a gesture she took to signify, "It's okay. She'll get over it."

Mulder shifted to where his back rested against a rock and curled up in the fur. He yawned. He was tired, and the need sleep was catching up with him. Mulder watched the man through half closed eyes as the man ate.

------

Mulder woke. The fire was being brought back to life, by the woman. She looked at him and tossed another handful of sticks on the fire. She nodded, acknowledging him, and picked up an old black coffee pot. She held it up, questioning with a raised brow if he wanted some.

"Please," he said, sitting up.

She handed him a cup of steaming coffee. He held it in his hands warming them as he waited for the liquid to cool a little. Finally he asked hesitantly, "Do ... do you or your husband speak?"

She shook her head, took a sip from the cup, and made the throat gesture. It was then that Mulder realized that the movement coincided with the need to swallow. She lifted her chin slightly as she listened to a sound in the outer crevasse, allowing Mulder to see part of an angry red scar that ran horizontally under her chin. A moment later her husband emerged. She stood and went over to him.

She made several hand gestures that Mulder couldn't connect with the sign language that he was familiar with. The man nodded and went to the back of the cave. He returned to where Mulder sat a few minutes later. He sat cross-legged before Mulder, put his fingertips together and bowed once over them. He waited expectantly.

"You both have had throat surgery," Mulder said.

The man nodded. He unbuttoned his shirt half-way, and then traced the three reddish scars with his finger. The first ran under his chin along the jawbone from ear to ear. The second was vertical down the center of his throat ending at his collar bone. The last followed his collar bone eight inches on either side of center.

"May I?" Mulder asked. The man nodded. Mulder reached out and touched his throat tentatively. It appeared that most of the tracheal cartilage had been removed along with the voice box. "Who did this to the two of you?" he wondered.

The man shrugged, looked skyward and began to rebutton his shirt.

"I wish Scully was here to examine you," Mulder said. "She'd find this interesting."

The man's almond-shaped hazel eyes narrowed slightly. He dug into a pocket and removed a pad of wrinkled paper and a well used pencil. "Who?" Yoshida wrote.

"Scully. Dana Scully, my partner. She's a Doctor."

Yoshida nodded slightly and wrote, "Your name?"

"Fox Mulder."

"Yoshida," he wrote.

"Mr. Yoshida, can you tell me what happened?"

Yoshida sat back a little, thinking. Then he pulled a very old scrap of road map from his pocket. He put it on the ground between them. Mulder looked at the map as Yoshida pointed to a road junction. Then moved his finger up the valley to a second road junction, finally his finger crossed the valley to a red spot inked on the side of the mountain.

Mulder looked closely at the map there was nothing manmade indicated in the area of the third point. The township and range markings in the corner didn't give him a clue as to where the map was from. There were no roads at all on the far side of the valley. Mulder looked up at Yoshida as he replaced the map, waiting for further details.

Yoshida held his hand over the map fragment his fingers out stretched. Then he moved his hand down slowly towards the map. When his hand was close to the map he put his first three fingers down on the spots he had indicated.

Mulder looked again. Slowly realizing that the three points made a perfect equilateral triangle and according to the scale, each side of the triangle was about three quarters of a mile long. "A space craft?" Mulder asked.

Yoshida shrugged and shook his head slightly. He didn't know. It took a while, but Yoshida finally got across to Mulder in gestures and pictures drawn in the dirt, that he and his wife had been driving when they saw a light that they thought was a meteor. They went to investigate. There was a bright flash of light as they rounded a corner. Then he shrugged. It was the end of Yoshida's tale.

"How did you get here?"

Yoshida shrugged, putting his pad and the map carefully back in his pocket with the pencil. He didn't know or wasn't going to say --Mulder wasn't sure which. His curiosity was roused but further questions would wait for a while.

Mulder looked at Kastria as she stirred in her nest of furs. She moaned and tossed. He thanked Yoshida and went to Kastria's side.

"Kastria," Mulder said softly, touching her shoulder to calm her. She fought him, striking out. "Kastria, wake up!" he said more forcefully as he caught her wrists. She shrieked and sat up. "You're among friends." he reassured her.

She looked around, frightened, and then she remembered who he was. She clung to Mulder for comfort. Yoshida's wife came running out of the back and into the cavern, concern on her fine features.

"It's alright," Mulder said as much to her as Kastria. "There's no one here that'll hurt you."

"The storm has let up," she said shakily. "Now they'll be able to find me."

Mulder turned to Yoshida, "Has the storm let up?"

Yoshida nodded. He brought Kastria's dry clothes over to her.

------

"Kastria, who's tracking you and why" Mulder asked, and then glanced at the roof of the cavern, half-expecting it to fall in. Something seemed to happen each time he had asked her questions before.

"They're men and not men," she said, gathering the furs tightly around her again. "I don't understand how, but they track me no matter what I do. I can't seem to get far enough away."

He raised his brow slightly as he picked up on what she was saying. "Not men?" Mulder questioned.

"I never saw them closely. They are thin ... and different.

"Where did you escape from and how long were you held there?" he asked. For some reason he half-expected to hear her say a sanatorium.

Kastria looked at Mulder. She knew by the look that crossed his face what he was thinking. "It's not what you think," she said defensively. "I came into their care --" She paused, her mouth pinched as if she wanted to spit but didn't. "-- on the third of August 1990.

"I don't know where I escaped from exactly but it's underground. The other captives have stories telling of a safe haven on Black Mountain if you can get there. So I tried to escape. First time they caught me, they brought me back and they squeezed my head." She winced and put her hands to her temples. "I didn't tell. Honest, I didn't tell."

Mulder reached out to her. "It's okay. They're not here."

She looked up, wild-eyed. "This time during the storm I made it past the outer barrier. I have only to reach Black Mountain now and I'll be free of their influence forever." She stood, the furs dropping haphazardly to the ground.

Mulder stood. He knew something was building inside her but wasn't sure what to expect.

"I can hear them on Black Mountain, calling to me. I must go!" she shouted. She dodged around Mulder and ran towards the cave's entrance.

Mulder tried to grab her as she brushed past him but missed. "Yoshida! Grab her!" he shouted.

Kastria disappeared down the crevasse that was the cavern's entrance with Yoshida close behind her. Mulder heard a brief struggle as he too entered the crevice. He rounded a bend to see Yoshida gently lowering Kastria's limp form to the ground.

Mulder hurried to her side. He gently brushed her hair out of her face. She was unconscious. He picked her up and with Yoshida's assistance carried her back to the fire.

Her head rolled to the side as they lay her on the furs. Mulder looked more closely at her. There was a reddish scar near her temple above her right ear. He ran a finger lightly over it and found there was a small lump beneath the skin.

Mulder looked up to bring the mark to Yoshida's attention. But his head exploded in a fountain of color and pain, followed by quiet darkness.

------

Mulder listened to the sounds around him as the surface he lay on rolled down what sounded like a long corridor or tunnel. There was a scent in the air that reminded him of machinery, old and rusty. He was careful to remain limp. Occasionally the hand that hung off his conveyance brushed up against a wall. At first it had been cold and rough like stone, and then it was smooth but still felt cold.

He couldn't tell if he was secured in any way, but he didn't think so. Mulder could only hear one set of foot steps. He thought the person who was pushing his conveyance was alone. He opened his eye a crack and saw a tall, brown bearded man in red surgical clothing. The gurney stopped before an open doorway. "Hey! Had two more brought in. Where do they want them?"

There was a garbled, metallic-sounding response. "Okay. You want to send Dave down to receiving for the other one?" Mulder's gurney pilot asked. There was another garbled response. "Okay, you take this one on and I'll go back for the other one."

Mulder peeked through his slitted lids at the new-comer. He was easily a foot shorter than the first man, again dressed in red. Mulder saw that the new person's face was hidden behind a mirrored protective mask and hoses running out from the bottom of the mask made him think that the mask was part of a self-contained sterile suit.

The hallway down which they traveled was mostly dark and echoed slightly with the sound of the gurney's wheels. Mulder hadn't heard another soul for sometime so he decided to make his escape. Quickly pulling up his feet he kicked out, hitting his opponent square in the chest. Mulder jumped off the gurney before it crashed into the wall, following his man to the floor. A quick right elbow to the face mask cracked it and the suited man stopped moving.

A wisp of grey-green smoke escaped from cracks in the mirrored mask but Mulder didn't have time to investigate further. Down the hallway he could hear voices approaching. He tried the door immediately to his right it was locked. The door further down on the left opened onto a corridor. Mulder ran down the corridor, trying to find an exit or a corridor that led back they way they had come. Less than a minute later the alarms began to sound and the hallways filled with more people dressed in red.

------

Mulder took refuge behind a stack of packing crates. He could hear feet running past. He waited patiently for the footsteps to fade completely before he emerged from cover. A bright light half-illuminated him from behind. Mulder quickly flattened himself on the floor. He looked up at what he had thought was a solid wall, to discover there was a large window in it. He peered over the sill and found it over looked over an operating theater.

Fascinated, Mulder watched as a dazed young woman was led into the room, by two people in the mirror-faced, red, self-contained sterile suits. When the woman realized where she was, she began struggling with her escorts.

She screamed but Mulder couldn't hear anything through the inch thick glass. A third person in red walked up to her and pointed a small instrument at her face. There was a puff of white mist and the woman went instantly limp.

She was carried over and placed on one of two identical tables. The three people ran clamps over her shoulders and across her chest. The clamps all attached to the table under her arms, pinning her torso down securely. A strap, also attached to the table, held her head immobile.

The door to the room opened and a gurney carrying a shrouded figure was pushed into the room by two more attendants in red. The figure was transferred to the second operating table. The shroud covering the figure's back was pulled aside and an attendant sprayed a liquid liberally over the pallid grey skin.

Mulder's attention turned to the girl. As he watched, her eyes opened. There was desperation in them but she didn't move. A large apparatus was wheeled up to the table and centered over her throat. One of the people in red threw a switch and the head of the table began to move. As it lowered, it tipped her head back until her jaw was positioned out from under the machine.

A second switch was thrown and green laser light glowed on the woman's neck. The apparatus's position was then adjusted. One of the people opened the collar of her shirt and held it out of the way while one of his colleagues lowered the apparatus until its framework touched her flesh.

Horror filled Mulder as he realized that they were about to do to her what they had done to Yoshida and his wife. As he watched there was a burst of mist and the center section of the machine descended on her throat. Her body twitched once as the machine made contact. The machine emitted a high-pitched whine he could just hear through the glass. Within a few minutes the noise stopped and the center of the machine rose slowly up, emitting another burst of mist.

The guides were lifted from her throat and one of the attendants pulled the apparatus out of the way. They took the machine quickly over to the second table and carefully repositioned it. Multiple adjustments were made on the machine before the program's sequence was satisfactory to its operator. With a final adjustment a knob was turned and the machine began its work.

As the body of the machine touched the grey skinned figure a monitor screen, now visible to Mulder, lit up showing a blade penetrating the grayish skin. The view changed as the blade split in half lengthwise, cutting and pushing its way around the spinal column until it was half-exposed.

A pasty gray liquid seeped out of the flesh as mechanical manipulators descended from the interior of the machine. One by one the vertebrae were spread slightly. The now cleaned and shaped cartilaginous half-rings from the donor's trachea were quickly placed between the vertebras and around the recipient's spinal cord.

The blades were retracted and the skin closed. A spray of mist momentarily obscured the view. The skin remained closed, without any signs of seepage. The monitor was turned off. Mulder sat on the floor and looked at his watch. Incredibly the whole operation had taken just under ten minutes.

There had to be something that he could do to stop them from doing this to others. Somewhere in this warren, he was sure, they still had Kastria and he wasn't about to leave her here. Mulder worked his way out of his hiding place and into the corridor. It was empty. He edged down the corridor listening for the occupants of the complex.

He froze when he heard a strange noise behind him. He half-turned. A door opened beside him. There was a blinding light, a cloud of mist, then nothing.

------

Mulder woke with a roaring headache. He opened his eyes. There was a bright light shining in his face and he found couldn't move. He realized that his chest and shoulders were pinned down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kastria stretched out on a cot near an operating table like the ones he had seen earlier. There was no one currently attending to her.

There was a movement at his side. Mulder looked up into the mirrored mask of a person in red. Another attendant pulled the glistening metal apparatus up to the table. Mulder closed his eyes as he felt his head being tipped back slowly. He struggled but couldn't move at all. He felt the vibration of the table as the attendant settled the machine's framework over his throat.

Mulder knew what would be happening next but he couldn't resist the urge to watch as much as he could. He squinted as he looked up into the bowels of the machine. He could see three razor sharp blades forming an 'I' at the center. There were nozzles of various sizes on both sides of the center blade.

Mulder closed his eyes as green laser light erupted from the machine. He felt the vibrations as the machine began powering up. The room was soon filled with painfully loud noise. The air was filled with the antiseptic smells as the nozzles released their spray.

After a minute the power to the machine was cut. Welcome silence filled the room. Mulder opened his eyes and looked around. He didn't feel any different, it was then he noticed that the machine was still positioned over him. The blades paused just an inch off his throat.

All activity in the room had ceased. The attendants had turned to face to doorway. A person in a white sterile suit entered the circle of light that surrounded the operating table and into his line of sight.

"This one in unacceptable," the newcomer said. The voice was mechanical.

Mulder heard a garbled, but mechanical sound coming from the one standing beside him.

The one in white raised a hand and spoke. "Not this one."

Again a garbled response.

"I know that time is short, but harvesting continues on schedule. This one is not to be processed."

Mulder felt the machine begin to slowly rise off his throat as the discussion continued. The person in red spoke lengthily to his white counterpart.

"I understand that. It will be taken care of."

-----

"... and Jorgenson. We don't want him to come up dead like the last one we entrusted to you ... or missing. It would bring more attention to the project than any of us can afford.

"Yes, sir."

"You can pick him up around five a.m. We'll be pulling him out of the chamber then."

"The chamber? Is that really necessary?"

"We're accelerating the drop in his body temperature to simulate hypothermia and treating him with drugs to erase the memories he acquired over the last forty eight hours or so. Then there will be less chance of him giving us trouble in the future.

"I understand, sir."

-----

"Mulder? Are you all right?" Scully asked again.

He set the picture down on his desk. "No, but I do remember."

"Tell me what happened."

"I have to check something first," he said picking up the phone. "What's the number to the Lee County Sheriff's Office?"

Scully opened her pocket notebook and read him the number. Mulder dialed. "Yes, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder. I would like to speak to Under Sheriff Jorgenson please." Mulder was quiet for some time listening before he spoke. "Please pass on our condolences to his family. Thank you for telling me."

"What happened?"

"Under Sheriff Jorgenson was killed by a falling tree top. It's what loggers refer to as a 'widow maker'.

"When?"

"While he was investigating some vandalism at a remote logging camp up on Black Mountain."

"I'm sorry to hear that but how does that affect what you remember?"

Mulder smiled rather ironically and said knowing instinctively that if one witness had been eliminated the others would have had the same fate, "No witness, no evidence."

-----

Fox Mulder sat on a bench overlooking the paddle boats on the tidal basin. His lunch sat uneaten beside him as he contemplated the past week. There was a warm breeze blowing off the water. As he picked up his sandwich and opened the wrapper, he heard a soft voice say, "Mr. Mulder, thank you for trying."

FINI


End file.
